Generation

we are the generation full of aspirations and dreams and soul,

we’re lending hands in our own massacre

falling apart and still trying

to capture the self-destruction in our art

our writers are way in over their heads, they have so much to say,

but not enough patience,

they are the ones who are up at two,

three, four, five

crossing out and rewriting all that they hate,

making sure they don’t miss any detail,

just trying their best, to immortalize some part of themselves, leaving behind pieces of themselves,

in every piece they write.

hiding in-between the metaphors,

in case they don’t see the sunrise,

for the writer’s mind is a maze

and it’s easy to lose sight.

our photographers are filled with talent

they ruin themselves to find just the right angle,

they fall and trip and still move on,

they rush places and beat time

to get the saturation,

and capture the moment,

they see the beauty in the cracked pavement, they can make the most mundane

look aesthetic and wonderful

they’re exhausted but still keep trying

to keep up with time their tears and sweat mingles

with chemical in their dark rooms still they develop photo after photo, refusing to not capture the few good moments

our poets are letting out sighs writing with majestic vocabulary

and making even pain look glorious their poems growing intricate

with each verse,

they’re cutting the layers over their hearts squeezing out the golden honey,

and once it’s done,

just like a fallen honeycomb

only approached to be eaten and savored

yet this doesn’t stop the poets,

as they keep filling

the pages

our painters are engrossed in their work

throwing their hearts across canvases bringing what they see in t

heir minds with just the right shade, to life.

and their imaginations are so stunning,

so full of colors with a side of messy and fearless that, to get the perfect hue,

they’ll not hesitate to mix their own blood.

to keep the painting as near to what they want,

they’ll never compromise.

bleed on the canvas if that’s required

they’ll make their own flaws the muse,

and show just how cracks can be,

a safe haven and not a reason for insecurity

we’re the generation,

who while have talent for what they love,

will live forever doing what they don’t.

we are the people whose hearts

are drowning in the blood,

from our self-inflicted cuts.

we’re the generation people said

“they will save the world”

but now are unable to save

from their own selves.

we are drowning

but we haven’t drowned yet,

the surface is near,

and we can survive if we want to,

so, hold on, hold on to your art

they’ll keep our souls afloat.